Walking towards you with my head down

Looking at the ground, I'm embarrassed for you

Paranoia, what did I do wrong this time?

That's parents for you

Very loyal? Should've had my back

But you put a knife in it

~ NF, Let You Down

BPOV

Forgiveness.

Everyone expected it.

Most people deserved it.

The man who accidently bumped into you on the street certainly didn't deserve to have a grudge held against him and the girl who picked on you in high school probably turned out to be an okay woman in the end.

Still. For however major or minor the infraction, society had come to rely on the apology and assume a few mumbled words erased whatever hurt or pain had been caused. Because every child was taught to accept the apology without a second thought.

It was bullshit.

Forgive and forget wasn't what we should be taught. Not when irreparable damage had been done to you; mind, body, and soul.

I had spent years trying to forgive and forget, assuming that was the only way I could move on. I forced my mind to do the forgetting, but every ounce of me rebelled against forgiving.

I couldn't forgive Tyler for a single bruise. Renee didn't deserve forgiveness for the years of neglect. Charlie certainly didn't have my forgiveness for every time he told me it was all in my head.

And that was okay.

It didn't mean I was holding a grudge or still hung up on it. It meant what they had done was unforgivable, and that wasn't on me.

Somehow, it all clicked into place. Maybe it was hearing Tyler admit that I was right, or the Judge telling him he deserved to spend a lifetime behind bars. It could have been the fact that my father, who I didn't even realize was in the courtroom, couldn't even meet my eyes as I walked past.

I had been prepared for that court hearing to break me. Instead, it was like that last piece of the puzzle fitting perfectly into place. A puzzle I could now tear apart, put back into the box, and never have to solve again.

Maybe the clarity was thanks to hours spent in the saltwater with the sand between my toes. Or the man snoring softly beside me in bed.

But it was there and I wasn't going to take it for granted.

My hand pressed against his cheek, a couple days' worth of stubble scratching against my palm. I pressed my lips softly to the tip of his nose, pulling away with a smile at the loud snore he let out as I pulled away.

Edward only snored when he was exhausted, which led to a knot of guilt tying up my stomach.

I wasn't selfish enough not to see how much he had taken on in the last month. To not see the dark circles under his eyes or to not know that he slept nearly as horribly as I did these days.

Last night was the first time I remembered sleeping through the night and not waking up in a cold sweat.

I pressed another kiss to his cheek before easing myself out of bed. We had a few more hours left to ourselves at our little beach house before we went back to reality. One that I had a newfound anticipation for.

Pulling a plain grey t-shirt and black cotton shorts on, I made my way out to the kitchen. Cooking wasn't my forte, but I could manage breakfast. The house had been fully stocked when we arrived Friday night, and I had spotted a waffle iron one evening as Edward cooked us dinner.

My focus had been so intent on waiting for the green light to signal my last waffle was done, that I didn't notice Edward take a seat at the bar across from me until he let out a quiet chuckle.

"You're adorable."

I frowned. "You're ruining breakfast in bed."

Edward leaned his arms on the counter, his sleep-ruffled hair sticking in every direction. "Bed isn't nearly as enjoyable when you're not in it."

A warm blush flooded my cheeks and I turned my attention back to my waffles. "Bed isn't nearly as enjoyable when you have a new hip and can't use it."

For weeks, I had done my stretches. Gone on pathetic little walks because that was all I could manage. My hip was still sore more often than not, my ribs still always reminding me that I couldn't do much more than breathe without aggravating them.

I knew it wasn't forever. That I had to be patient and not push my recovery. But it was hard to remind myself of that when I had a shirtless husband across from me with deliciously ruffled hair and sweatpants hanging off of his hips that were just teasing me with what was underneath. Or when he kissed me on the beach with the kind of unrestrained need that had been bubbling up in both of us for weeks.

A warm hand wrapped gently around my waist, tugging me to twist around. Edward's arms braced on the counter behind me, the fire behind his eyes burning away every coherent thought.

His lips were warm at my ear as he whispered, "Think of all the fun we'll be able to have once you're better."

He swallowed my whimper with a kiss. His fingers brushing against my waist, flexing against my skin as he seemingly resisted the urge to grab me.

My hands pressed into the warm skin of his chest, reveling against every muscular curve and dip. I took a fraction of a step forward, ignoring the uncomfortable twinge in my ribs and stretching up on my toes to make the kiss last as long as possible.

"I miss you," I sighed once he pulled away.

A simple smile covered his face, his palm cupping my cheek. "I'm right here."

"No," I frowned. "I miss you. Waking me up in the middle of the night because you want me, following me into the shower with some lame excuse about saving water, touching me for longer than thirty seconds before you pull away."

He tried to hide it, the flash of unrestrained lust that flooded his eyes. I knew the look too well to miss it.

Edward's forehead rested against mine. "I miss you, too."

My teeth dug into my bottom lip, my right hand trailing down his abdomen until it landed on the evidence of just how much he missed me. "I know."

My name came out in a weak protest as I slowly and carefully sank to my knees.

"Christ, you don't have to – "

I nipped at the sensitive skin right beneath his navel and ignored his polite opposition. I let his sweatpants fall to the ground as my tongue traveled from hip to hip. We both let out matching moans as my lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

My eyes never left him, traveling from the lust-stained gaze locked on me to the abdomen that visibly tensed with the effort not to fuck my mouth. I watched his knuckles whiten against his tight grip on the counter behind me, listened as his breath quickly started to come in pants.

I let my nails scrape against his thighs before one hand reached up for his, bringing his fingers to tangle in the halfhearted ponytail I put my hair in earlier. I was tired of the slow walks and sweet kisses and gentle caresses. My moan as his cock hit the back of my throat must have been invitation enough for him, his fingers tightening in my hair as he pushed himself even further down my throat.

Each grunt and curse and moan had my mind full of all the other times I had heard them. I remembered every moment his skin had brushed against mine as he took me for the first time and each flick of his wrist as I came around his fingers the night before I ended up in the hospital.

I saw all of those memories reflected back at me in his eyes as he came down my throat.

The moment was only slightly ruined when Edward had to reach down to help me stand up, but the searing kiss he gave me after made up for it.

…Closure…

I had never considered myself someone who got star-struck. Maybe I just never really went through that phase in adolescence where I was in love with a boy in a band or obsessed with an actress enough to have her posters covering my walls, but celebrity and status rarely phased me.

It was a good thing, considering the career I ended up in. I couldn't make a fool out of myself in every client meeting just because the person sitting across from me had a couple Grammys. It was a surprise to even myself when I nearly stumbled over my own two feet at the three people walking down the hall toward me.

Edward was one of them. But, the other two had made headlines for just about everything from philanthropy to murder to the woman being the most awarded actress in the history of the Academy Awards.

I spent six months in college studying her. Her tactics, how the team she surrounded herself with was able to build her career back after she spent a year in jail on trial for murdering her biological father.

Her husband was beside her. The one who faked his own death to protect her from being hunted down in jail in case his associates thought he might help her cut a deal with the District Attorney. He had been called the deadliest man in Chicago for decades. It was a title I struggled to remember as he strolled down the hall of Edward's theater with his hand resting around his wife's waist.

They both walked with a grace and sense of worth that very few achieved in life. They knew who they were, what they were worth, and made no apologies for it. Theirs was a story that had happened before I was even born. Her son was about my age, but it was still one of the most talked about scandals in this town.

I fought against the urge to duck into the supply closet to my left, knowing Edward had already spotted me down the hall.

"Bella," he smiled, wrapping an arm around my waist and pressing his lips to the top of my head. "This is – "

"Oh, I know who you are," I blurted out, regretting it instantly. "I mean – "

"I know what you mean," the woman said with a kind smile that told me she was far too used to people already knowing who she was. For the good, and the bad. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"You, ah, you too. Both of you," I added, eying the man standing stoically beside her.

"I'm glad to see you're doing okay. After… what happened," she told me, a warm smile that appeared completely genuine on her face.

"Thank you. I don't even have to use a walker anymore," I boasted before my brain had a chance to stop my lips.

"How long did he get?" her husband asked, eyes on my husband.

"Fifteen years."

He hummed, the man who had more blood on his hands than was currently flowing through my own body. "Well," he sighed, tightening his hold on his wife and turning to head across the theater to the guest dressing room. "You never know what can happen to a person in prison."

His wife elbowed his ribs. "Figuratively, of course," she sighed. "It was lovely to meet you. And thank you again, Edward, for the last-minute slot."

"Anytime," he nodded.

He had to pull me into his office, as I craned my neck to watch them and the three incredibly terrifying security guards make their way down the hall.

"Holy shit," I gasped once the door was closed. "Holy shit."

"Now, how come you didn't have that kind of reaction when meeting me for the first time?"

"Because you don't have like… a dozen Academy Awards and never got away with murder."

Edward chuckled, leaning against the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest.

"How'd you book her?" I asked, dropping my bag on the floor by the door.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Can you keep a secret?"

I frowned, more than a little offended. "Of course I can keep a secret."

"She's releasing another visual album at midnight. After all the shit that has come out the last few months – "

"Holy shit!" I squeaked, my hand slapping over my mouth. "Sorry."

The woman was a legend. And it had been decades since she had released one of her visual albums. The college student buried deep inside me had a sudden urge to write a ten-page paper about it.

"You're fucking adorable," Edward sighed, pulling me against him and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "How was the doctor?"

"Fine," I shrugged. Only giving in when his eyes wouldn't leave mine. "He said there's some new swelling in my hip since my last appointment and that I was probably trying to push myself too fast."

In the week since our mini beach vacation, all I wanted was normalcy. I wanted to walk my dog and drive my car and have sex with my husband. So, I might have taken to increasing the intensity of my stretches. And I might have gotten a scolding from the doctor after I admitted it.

We were getting married, again, in two weeks. And I wanted my wedding night to consist of more than a kiss on the cheek and my honeymoon to be more than a walk around the park.

"Bella," Edward sighed.

"I know," I grumbled, my attention focused solely on the collar of Edward's blue button down. "I just—the beach last weekend felt normal. And it made me want it back. I want to be able to dance with you at our wedding and not worry about turning or twisting the wrong way. And I want to be able to… enjoy… our honeymoon. I thought if I pushed myself a little harder it would… move the process along."

I could feel it. That future I so desperately wanted just off the horizon. A life of waking up next to my husband every morning and walking my dog after breakfast and taking weekend trips up to New York whenever we felt like it. A life of little moments that weren't ruined by a constant need to look over my shoulder everywhere I went or a bruised rib that kept sending bolts of pain down my abdomen every time I moved. It was so close and I would do just about anything to get it at this point. Including pushing my hip a bit too far, apparently.

It was a nasty habit I had, I realized. Pushing any kind of recovery too hard, too fast. I did the same thing when I started talking to Doctor Stanley and ended up mentally imploding and on a plane to Forks.

A warm hand cupped my cheek, lifting my face and forcing my eyes up. "We can postpone the wedding. If you want to make sure—"

"No," I snapped. "I don't want to postpone. I'm just… impatient, I guess. It's stupid."

Edward was quick to interrupt. "It's not stupid. You went from running five miles every morning to not being able to walk across the room without a walker. You're allowed to be impatient and want your life back, Bella."

I sighed, letting my arms fall lazily over his shoulders and gave him a small nod.

"Even if you're still recovering, we'll be able to dance at our wedding. And even if we can't… fully enjoy our first honeymoon, I'll take you on another whenever you want."

There was a knock at the door before I could respond. Donny, the Tonight Show's booking agent, stuck his head in the room.

"Sorry to interrupt. I heard you were in and wanted to talk to you about your episode."

I was quiet as I disentangled myself from Edward. It took me a good minute of silence to realize Donny was talking to me and not Edward.

"My episode?"

Donny frowned. "Edward said you agreed to come on the show. You've got a full episode to yourself four weeks from Monday."

"I thought—" I gasped, turning toward Edward and his Cheshire cat grin. "I thought it was a joke."

"Oh, no. I've got a lot of plans for that episode."

Four weeks from Monday would be his first episode back after our honeymoon. I turned to Donny, hoping he might be the voice of reason.

"You can't possibly think I can fill an hour of late-night television."

Donny shrugged, looking a little guilty as he said, "From what I hear, you're a bit of a commodity these days."

I frowned to myself. I'd had a meeting or two with Alistair since I had been back at work. He handed me a list of outlets that had requested interviews and comments and even a couple magazine cover offers with a guilty grimace. I had hoped a blanket refusal of everything would have gotten the message across.

My eyes drifted to Edward. I had already agreed to the episode. And he had an excited glint in his eyes that I hadn't seen in far too long.

"I'm not playing that game where you eat gross stuff."

A/N: I'm trying this new thing where my chapters aren't 7k words. But that probably means I lied when I said this story will be around 25 chapters. Probably closer to 30, but who knows?

Me and my stories have a total of 18 nominations at the TwiFicFandom Awards! Thank you to anyone who nominated me and anyone who has voted. A quick google search of the name should bring it up for you if you feel inclined to vote :)

Anyway. I hope you guys enjoyed this one. I'll see you soon!